Those Little Things
by Iceytaste
Summary: Series of drabbles, centered especially around Rose and Dimitri, though alternate pairings and characters will have their chapters. Fluff, angst, friendship, and popcorn ensue—what more could you ask for?
1. Popcorn

**I haven't been around for a while, and I have a bad habit of not continuing fanfics, but hopefully this'll work out as drabbles aren't that demanding. Each chapter will probably range in series time, but hopefully you'll be able to figure out when it's happening by context.**

 **Hope you enjoy, and please review or whatever to motivate me to actually update, haha.**

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Drabble 1: Popcorn

"Hey, comrade," she yawns, almost lethargic in movement as she slowly sits up. He's stunned, as usual, by that mane of dark hair, those dark eyes—even half-closed and reflecting the movie playing onscreen. A small smile plays on her lips as she catches his overt gaze.

"What?" His voice is barely a whisper, rough as sandpaper. Excruciatingly slowly, she comes closer, to the point of leaning over him. Her torso hovers just inches from his own, and she's still lowering herself—

"Got it," she grunts, finally reaching the bowl of popcorn. Crossly, she throws a kernel at him with that acute accuracy which years of target training has established. "Thanks for being an obstacle between me and my food. A six-foot-seven obstacle."

He opens his mouth with reflexes that rival hers, grinning as he catches it midair, chews. "No obstacle, no matter how abnormally tall, could separate Rose Hathaway and food for long." Then he shakes his head, mumbling something incoherent and seemingly frustrated.

"What's that?" she inquires, her tone light and innocent.

"I said you're a tease, Roza," he says, and she laughs. So hard, in fact, that she nearly chokes a little on the popcorn. And he's never loved her more.


	2. Hair Down

**Here's a little more serious chapter. Hope you're all having a good week. Thanks for the feedback** — **please don't hesitate to review! I'd love to hear what you guys think and it really encourages me to continue. Thanks!**

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Drabble 2: Hair Down

Both wear their hair down.

"Why?" a naïve little voice asks one day, pale green eyes gazing up in childish curiosity.

"Because, little one," Rose explains in feigned seriousness. She leans down, raising a finger to her lips with some air of secrecy. "We belong to a super secret club, and that's a part of the rules. But you can't tell anyone, okay?"

"Is that why you never do your hair all fancy like Mommy does?"

"Right."

Silence follows as the child seems to be absorbing this information. Rose wonders if Lissa will lecture her on feeding her kid lies, but suddenly the little girl huffs in resolve. "I don't believe you," she announces, then strides away.

Rose tilts back her had and begins to laugh. She can't help it—Lissa's kid is pretty smart, even young as she is (definitely a quality she obtained from her mother's side of the family, no offense to Christian).

"Oh, Roza."

Sometimes Rose forgets Dimitri's in the room. She turns around—she almost expects him to chastise her for offering such a childish explanation to their godchild (even though she _is_ a child), but he's staring at her with such tenderness that she's taken aback.

"What?"

"And why do we wear our hair down?" he asks softly.

Suddenly the mood changes.

"I..." She trails off, takes a few steps towards him. He's sitting in a chair that suddenly doesn't make him seem as giant as he is. Their eyes don't break contact, sad brown meeting sad brown.

He stiffens as she touches her fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse, letting it lull her into a calm. She lifts up his hair, tracing the tiny tattoos that have grown to take up the whole of his neck. "I guess...I guess to forget."

"I think you're right," he murmurs thoughtfully in response. The hair thing—it had never been something they'd talked about, or planned. It just sort of happened, neither consciously thinking about it, but both of them carrying the burdens of their _molnijas_ and their stories anyway.

"I used to think of them as something to be proud of. Trophies. Especially back at St. Vlad's, when I was a novice..." Rose slumps down in the empty seat next to him. _When Mason was alive. When a lot of friends who are gone now were alive._

"And now they're a reminder," he finishes. She nods mutely.

He reaches out for her, and she gratefully falls into his embrace.

She doesn't often cry anymore. Neither of them do, Dimitri especially. After all, they're guardians—the guardians with the most important charges in the Moroi world. It's their job to contain, to keep it together, to be the anchors and not the messy storm.

But today, curled up on two chairs in the empty Dragomir living room, they fall apart. And perhaps closer together.


	3. Treadmill

**Hey, I forgot to add an A/N haha. I'm a little late (well, a lot late) with this chapter, but hope you enjoy still.**

 **Don't forget to review!**

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Rose and Dimitri liked the large training gym offered to the guardians at Court. I mean, who wouldn't? It was less about the high-tech, top-notch gear and more about the space. It was large enough that the gym-goers could space out without feeling claustrophobic. Not to mention its running track, which brought back fond(ish) memories of St. Vlad's nearly-identical one.

So when news arrived that it was under renovation for about a month, it was an understatement to find them (Rose, particularly) upset.

"This is bullshit," she snorted, leaning against the wall of their living room. "How are we supposed to train?"

"There's another gym—a few other gyms," Dimitri reminded her.

Always the voice of reason. She snorted again.

"Okay—how are we supposed to train _in my preferred environment_?"

"It'll be fine." Dimitri rolled his eyes and tossed Rose her coat. "It's almost the same, just smaller."

"Significantly."

He shrugged and led the way across the quad.

Ironically enough, it seemed that Dimitri ended up less fond of the gym than Rose. Without the track to run on (which they both preferred to machines), they had to stick with treadmills.

Which were almost all taken. Rose took one in the first row while Dimitri took the one in the second.

A few minutes in, Dimitri couldn't help noticing her hair. Her _hair_ , damn it. How had he never...?

 _That explains it._ On the track, they'd always ran side-by-side, so of course he'd never noticed. But here he was, behind her, and her hair was swinging to and fro like a pendulum. He swore he could smell it, too—some kind of fruity fragrance. And yeah, she was growing sweatier and sweatier by the minute, but it couldn't make her hair lose its luster. If anything, it made her all the more allur—

What the hell was wrong with him?

A quick scan of his surroundings called a few men of about their age to attention, some of whom were staring at her. Or the TV.

Or her. (Probably the TV, but.) He narrowed his eyes nonetheless, feeling suddenly possessive.

Even though it was STUPID, it was known _all over Court_ that they were engaged, and these were their fellow guardians; he was being _STUPID_...

Eventually his gaze returned back to her hair, which was TAUNTING him, back and forth, back and forth... He emitted a small growl of frustration, thankfully drowned out by the obnoxiously loud music.

Back and forth...

Back and forth...

Back and forth and back and...

"DAMN it, Rose!" A sharp yelp, winded of breath, then a crash that could only indicate something extremely heavy meeting the ground.

Rose, panicked at the tone of his voice and the clatter of sound (audible even through her pounding music), whipped around immediately, eyes full of concern.

Without pausing her own machine.

Then they were both on the ground, laughing and wincing simultaneously, while other guardians cast them looks—disapproving or amused, they couldn't tell which.

Later, when they opened their front door to find their charges settled comfortably in their living room, they tried to hide their limps and winces—to no avail, of course.

Christian whistled, raising a dark brow as he observed the pair. "You guys look _pretty_ beat up, even for you. Strigoi party?"

Lissa seemed just as interested. "Psi-hounds?"

"Yeah," Rose muttered, casting Dimitri a dark look. "Something like that."


End file.
